


Knives

by logiewankenobi



Series: Slaves, Mirrors, Knives, and Shackles [3]
Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Other, Self Harm, Suicide, self mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logiewankenobi/pseuds/logiewankenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When would the world go dark?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knives

Logan watched blood trickle down his arm from the cut he had made with the knife. The knife was one of his favorites, the first one he ever got. It cut his skin perfectly, he didn't have to saw at it. It made a clean cut, even. The knife had a good feel to the handle and the steel always felt cool, no matter how many times he used it.  
He pressed at the cut, smearing the blood around the cut a bit then licked it off his finger. The coppery taste made him smile a bit, almost more then the feel of the pain  
did. He looked at the cut again and watched it before he took the knife and sliced into his arm again, moaning softly at the feeling of his skin slicing, feeling the blood start to rise and slide down his arm.  
He licked the knife, for once being careful not to slice his tongue, which he chuckled a bit at the  
thought.  
He brought his arm up to his mouth and licked at the cuts, digging his tongue into them a bit, just enough to make him hiss at the pain, but not enough for him to stop.  
He free hand clutched at the knife tight and he stopped them and cut his arm again.  
He closed his eyes and pressed his head back against the wall as he relished in the feeling of the steel slice his skin. More blood slowly flowed down his arm.  
He watched it, taking in the way the light shined off the blood and the blade of the knife. How something so looked down upon was so beautiful in his eyes.  
He grinned at the three new cuts among the many scars on his arms.  
He had lost count of how many times he had taken the very knife in his hand and sliced the skin, scaring it and watching blood dry, the wounds heal. There were too many times. Way too many. Not enough to have made an impact though. He kept doing it, daring to try and see how long till it happened. When would the world go dark?  
He took the knife and cut again,planning on doing it over and over again till he couldn't see straight.


End file.
